


Two Men and Dinner

by arlenejp



Category: Mystrade - Fandom, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-01 16:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: The story of Greg and Mycroft.





	1. Just Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> In the last chapter, there is a sort of rape scene. Not too explicit and short.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Mycroft have dinner.

After years of an unhappy, dull marriage and much time mulling it over, I decide it's time to get out. To divorce. 

I know that my wife has been cheating on me and nothing is going right. She won't go to counseling either.

It takes some time to get the divorce but letting her have the house I take a small flat in London near the police station where I'm the Detective Inspector.

* * *

Life is all work now, with occasional outings with the blokes for drinks or a game. Mostly I sit and watch the telly with fish and chips or takeaway food.

* * *

It's raining very hard one day, and I've been outside for three hours with Sally, my assistant, and with the local police force. Sherlock Holmes, the so-called detective is here helping, or I should say, annoying the crap out of everyone.

We're finishing up when the black car of Mycroft Holmes pulls up to the curb.

* * *

The back window rolls down slightly and Mycroft eyes peer out, trying to keep the rain out of the car.

          "Sherlock, Greg, get in the car. I'll get the both of you to your homes."

          "Ah the ever present, ever helpful brother," Sherlock snidely remarks.          "Oh shut up, will you!" Pushing Sherlock out of the way and getting in first.

          "Yes thanks, Mycroft, I need a change of clothes before going back to the office." Mycroft doesn't answer but if it was my brother? Whack! 

Wouldn't take the lip that Sherlock gives, but Mycroft lets him have his head.

* * *

The interior of this plush limo is getting a good soaking from our clothes.

* * *

Sherlock remains quiet for the trip, steps out without saying a word to either of us.

* * *

Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's older brother and I have been eyeing each other for a few years. Even when I was married, it seemed when the two of us got together the sparks flew.

* * *

At the police station, my assistant Sally Donovan will nod at me with a knowing grin whenever Mycroft happens to be around, which is not a lot. Sometimes makes a joke about the prince and the pauper story, me being the pauper.

* * *

          "Greg, I have no appointments for tomorrow night. Your company would be appreciated. Would you join me for dinner? The Dover Hotel at seven be good for you?"

          " Out of my price range Mycroft. And what would you want my company for? Compared to the posh people you hang with I'm your garbage man."

* * *

Looking over at me with an expression on his face I can't read he softly states, his green eyes never leaving my face. 

          "Gregory, did I say anything about you paying? I understand that my 'how shall we say it' income is more than many inhabitants of London but that's not the point. You underestimate yourself, Detective Inspector Lestrade. Your intelligence would be most entertaining and not boring as those 'posh' people you speak of."

When I don't answer he taps my knee with the handle of his umbrella.

          "My car will pick you up. Oh, a suit, or if not, good trousers and button down."

What the hell! I might as well get a fantastic meal out of it!

* * *

          "See you tomorrow night then," as I get out of the car, running into my building and up the elevator to my humble flat.

* * *

I'm so eager for our dinner date that I can't think all day long. Sally is back in the teasing mode. "So, what did you and Mycroft do in the car on the way home?"

          "Sally stop."

          "Come on, all these years. I know you are a man looker. I even saw how you ogled John Watson before he became so attached to Sherlock. It's time you found someone of your own."

* * *

I know she's right. But Mycroft? What in the world could I be for him?

He's traveled all over the world, dined with the queen, eats at top-notch restaurants. Never happen!

* * *

Shit! What to wear. I have a suit, but it's so old, and when I put it on I realize I've lost a bunch of weight and it hangs on me. I bin it. 

I'll call Mycroft and cancel. But I don't want to. But I don't want to look a fool.

Finally, I choose a light blue shirt, black trousers and I find a navy vest that fits me.

* * *

The mirror reflects a man in his early fifties, hair that's now a silver gray, and lucky for me that I've kept most of it.

I have to admit, looking in the mirror that for a man in his fifties I still do well. The divorce helped me shed some pounds.

* * *

The car pulls up, and I grab a coat. It's cool out but no rain.

* * *

I'm shown to Mycroft's table, and he stands. The picture of London society. Always the three-piece suit. This time a gray pinstripe. Slim, with hairline receding I peg him in his late forties, early fifties.

* * *

          "Do you drink wine, Gregory?"

Do I drink wine? Nothing like he does, I imagine! I nod yes.

* * *

I haven't said a word yet, not even a hello, but look at the menu and try not to choke at the prices.

* * *

          "Gregory, do try the salmon if you enjoy eating fish, if not the lamb is sublime."          'Sublime,' I think to myself. Can't remember the last time I heard that fish and chips were 'sublime.'

* * *

I order the lamb, and the wine comes to the table. Mycroft does the usual swirl and smell and gives nod to it. 

He pours some for me, and I lift my glass to drink, but he interrupts.

          "To a good evening and good company."

We clink glasses, and I sip. Wow! That is good! Smooth!

* * *

          "Not talking tonight Gregory?"

My uneasiness is showing. I nod and then smile.

          "Guess this is overwhelming to me. Oh, the 'Gregory' is not needed. Greg will do."

          "Greg it is then".Our salads are served, and I can't find a thing to say to Mycroft. I'm overwhelmed just being in his presence.

          "Gregory, don't be unapproachable. Because we've different backgrounds and society declares we are not equal. Please, relax and talk to me."

* * *

          "Yeah, you're right. You are skin and bones like me. I love this wine by the way. Not used to drinking wine. It's beer or whiskey, and certainly nothing on the caliber of this."

I hold up my glass and Mycroft fills it again.

* * *

It seems after that the evening goes smoothly with the conversation centered around my work. A few times I asked Mycroft about his, but he evades all questions.

* * *

          "I'm becoming aware that all inquiries about your work will be met with silence, right?"

          "Sorry, so much I cannot divulge."

Upon finishing our meal, I'm at a loss as to the payment.

          "I have a running tab with many restaurants. Let's say your company has made up for the monetary amount."

* * *

In the car, Mycroft sits silent, and there's a slight heaviness, almost a division between us. I thought we had taken care of that in the restaurant.

* * *

As I get out, Mycroft stops me with a hand on my arm. 

          "Is tomorrow too soon?"

          Too soon for what? Oh you mean us again? "No I'm okay with it."

          "The car will be here at seven for dinner."

          "See you then."

* * *

I enjoyed the food, certainly! I even felt good at the dinner table. But, every once in awhile there seems to develop a tenseness. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last chapter has a rape scene


	2. More Dinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Greg continue meeting for dinner. Some at a restaurant and then at Mycrofts house

Dinner is again at a high-end restaurant. It's Chinese food this time. 

What a difference from the ones I visit. The food is authentic, and I leave it to Mycroft to order.

He is wearing a three-piece suit, dark brown with a light brown shirt and green and silver tie.

          "Try the sake, Gregory, it is made from rice.

More a beer than wine. But, it's very potent, so sip it and not too much."

* * *

Mycroft is explaining each of the dishes and what goes into them. Some of them seem repulsive to me, but I try it all anyway.

* * *

Greg cuts into a blackish egg. The inside is black with a greenish tinge. It doesn't look too inviting. 

Greg places a piece on a spoon and with a smile,"open up."

I do and tasting it makes me gag.

          "What is that?"

          "It's called a thousand-year-old egg. It's dipped in a solution of clay and salt. That's what causes the yolk of the eggs to take on that creamy, cheese-like texture, turns the whites into a dark-colored jelly."

          "Sorry, couldn't care if it was ten thousand, it tastes horrid."

* * *

He laughs and begins to spoon feed me more food. And each time he does I get the impression that he is coming on to me. His eyes are slitted, his hand moves slowly toward me, his body leans in.

* * *

The meal finishes with a dessert which I don't ever remember seeing in any Chinese place. It's yellow and transparent and is square.

          "This is a water chestnut cake."We'll have tea with this."

* * *

He pours my tea and moves his chair next to mine, spoons a piece of the cake and lifts it to my face. 

Now I'm sure he's seducing me. Okay, let's go with it!

Smiling deliberately, I look him in the eyes, put my hand over his spoon offering, and as I guide it closer to my mouth, I puff a breath out, the warmth of it reaching his hand.

* * *

Oh, yeah, that does the trick!

His breath is a gasp, and his hand drops the spoon, thankfully with little on it.

* * *

          "My turn," and picking up a spoon, placing a piece of cake on it I move it slowly to his mouth. 

His hand rests over mine, his mouth opens, and his tongue licks the cake and, not by accident, my fingers.

* * *

Damn, this has to be the sexiest move I have ever seen!

* * *

The meal finished we both get up, and I look down to Mycroft trousers, then to mine. We both have hard-ons.

* * *

The car ride is silent and thick with sexual excitement.

* * *

We stop at my place, and before I get out Mycroft states,"I have to be out of town for a few days so how about dinner at my house next Tuesday, seven. I'm a reasonably good cook. And we can keep the dress casual."

          "Can I bring anything?"

          "Yourself. The car will be there for you."

I climb out of the car, turn around, and the urge to kiss him is powerful, but I resist and walk up the steps to my flat.

* * *

Next day at work Sally watches me through slitted eyes.

          "Ok Greg, what's happening? You look, I don't know, peculiar this morning."

          "Need coffee, that's all."

          "Nah, something is up. Haven't worked with you all these years not to see a glint in your eyes. Meet a woman you're not telling me about? Maybe even a man?"

          "No, nothing like that. Whatever would give you that thought? Just didn't get enough sleep last night."

She scoffs and walks away.

* * *

Tuesday rolls around, and I'm so restless at work that Sally and Anderson kick me out. It's nice outside, so I decided to walk some. 

* * *

There's a florist shop along the way. I stop to think. 

Would giving him flowers be too much? I open the door to the smell, all the different scents mixing.

* * *

          "For a girlfriend or wife?" the salesperson says.

          "Just a friend who's invited me to dinner. Can't get liquor, so I don't know what is appropriate."

          "How about some yellow roses in a small vase?"

          "Sounds good."

As he gather it together, he informs me of the significance.

          "Yellow roses signify friendship. If you wanted something on a more intimate basis, I could suggest some other flower."

          "No, that's good. Perfect for my needs."

Flowers in hand I take a cab the rest of the way home and plan on what to wear.

* * *

I've never been to Mycroft's house, and the outside looks imposing. A townhouse in London, two stories. 

A man answers the door and brings me into a sitting room. The room is all dark wood and plush brown chairs and a sofa near a fireplace.

* * *

Mycroft enters, and he's wearing, I can tell, expensive trousers, a shirt, and vest, acknowledges me with a slight nod. 

I had decided on khaki trousers and a blue plaid shirt.

I hand him the flowers with the vase, and he gives me a wide grin.

          "Thanks, Gregory, that is thoughtful of you."

The small vase goes on the coffee table by the sofa.

* * *

          "What happened to casual? Or is not wearing a jacket casual to you?"

          "I have a hard time dressing down. Drink?"

          "Whatever you're having is good for me."

          "I thought since I made a duck that a Pinot Noir red would be good."

Like I know what goes with what!

* * *

He pours each of us a glass, and we clink glasses.

          "To a fabulous evening," wondering what 'fabulous' could mean.

* * *

He goes ahead of me to the dining room. It's large and also quite dark, with a table that seats ten. Although I imagine it can open up for more.

* * *

          "You cooked all this yourself?"

Incredulous with the spread of food, and the tastiness of it.

          "Yes, living alone I gravitated towards teaching myself to cook well. I try to cook at least every other week. Most of the time I'm dining at restaurants with people of importance."

The wine fits exactly with the meal.

* * *

          "I opted out of dessert this time."

          "And you make dessert too?" disbelieving of his skills.

          "Most of the time not. I like to watch my weight."

* * *

Back to the sitting room and the talk turns to his younger brother Sherlock. 

That's how I first met Mycroft.

Sherlock is in a relationship with Doctor John Watson, and they work with me on serious crimes.

Sherlock has been a drug addict and a pain to work with, but he is amazing when it comes to observing crime scenes.

Since John has come into his life things have eased up. So, we spend a good amount of time discussing the two men and our adventures with them.

* * *

The hour is late, and I tell Mycroft I have to be going. Work tomorrow.

          " Gregory, would you like to repeat tonight again?"

          "Oh yes. My flat is too small, and cooking is not my best asset."

          "Oh no, I meant dinner here for another time."

          "I have an idea. Why not dinner in your place and then we go to a pub after. One of my favorite haunts."

          "Sounds interesting. A stretch for me. I don't visit pubs."

          "But you have to dress down. A pair of jeans and a shirt, otherwise you'll look so out of place."

          "I'll have to buy a pair of jeans for myself. Don't know what shop to visit to buy them."

          "Okay, let me guess. You don't buy your clothes; they're all made for you."

He looks down at the floor rather guilty.

* * *

          "How about I take you shopping for jeans?" 

          "I'll take tomorrow afternoon off for our shopping. That's if you have the time."

          "I'll clear my calendar with Sally."

          "I'll pick you up at the police station. One o'clock do for you?"

          "That should be good."

That awkward moment appears.

          "I guess I should go. See you tomorrow." 

And I hold my hand out for a shake. He takes it, holds it tight, longer than needed.

* * *


	3. Jeans and Pub Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeans and pub

Oh, what a mistake! To have Mycroft pull up in the limo to the station, with all eyes looking! Never hear the end of this, especially from Sally.

* * *

In the car I ask Mycroft,"Can we ditch this car and take either the tube or cab?"

          "The tube? All those people packed together? The smells, the jostling?" 

You'd have thought I had told him to jump in a pig pen!

          "A cab it is."

* * *

We find the jeans section, all the while Mycroft has eyes on everything, turning side to side, taking it in. The salespeople, the clothes racks lined up, as well as the shoppers.

* * *

          "This is how you shop? All these people around? Ugh."

* * *

I'm hysterical inside. As much of a new experience as this is for him, it's the same for me. 

Never went shopping with anyone. I always bought my clothes on my own.

* * *

There's a salesman in the department, and I explain what we're looking for. He looks up and down at this man standing in front and snickers.

* * *

Mycroft bristles, and so do I. The salesman is also spending too much time looking at Mycroft's ass.

* * *

          "Are you sure you want jeans? You don't strike me as a casual man."

          " He isn't. We're changing that. While we're at it, I'll buy some for myself. I'll leave you to this gentleman Mycroft."

I know Mycroft's able to bring this guy down a peg or two if needed.

* * *

Knowing my size, I pick up two pairs, and find Mycroft just stepping out of the dressing room, and my eyes drift to his tight backside. Wow!

Never realized what a hunk of a man Mycroft is.

* * *

Jeans bought we head out shopping bags in hand. Well, in my hand at least. Mycroft is adverse to carrying bags.

* * *

All the while Mycroft is absorbing, cataloging, everything about this new experience.

          "I know a little cafe we can sit and eat lunch, if that's a good idea with you?"

Mycroft gives his assent. He's ready to call a cab.

          "We can walk to the place. Oh, don't tell me. This will be a new experience for you, right?"

          "You're certainly showing me how the majority lives."

I chuckle and we set off the two streets to the cafe.

It's too raw to sit outside, and I ask for a window seat to allow Mycroft to people watch.When it comes down to it the senior Holmes is like a child.Taking it all in with a surprising eagerness.

* * *

          "This is a day to remember, Gregory. It's been very engrossing. Something I've never thought of doing.

It will be dinner at my house then off to the pub."

          "Mycroft, I'll drive to your place. Six?"

          "That would be suitabe," and with his package of jeans in hand he hails a cab and looks at me with satisfaction when one pulls up.

We get in and to part company at my flat.

* * *

Dressing in a green plaid shirt and jeans I drive to Mycroft's house. 

Entering the large hallway, I'm always struck by the wealth of the man. It is very understated but there.

* * *

As I enter the butler is told," You don't have to stay the evening. I've let everyone go tonight."

The butler bows and leaves.

* * *

          "No need to have any of the servants. It's us and a simple dinner."

I note Mycroft is in jeans and a silk dark blue shirt. My body trembles slightly with heat.

A smug smile on Mycroft watching me scan him. I dislike that he can intuitively deduce my thoughts.

* * *

A simple meal is beef wellington, mixed vegetables, garlic potatoes with gravy. The wine is perfect.

I can't put my finger on anything specific, but there are times I think Mycroft is looking at me as if I am part of the dinner. And it disappears as quickly as I saw it.

* * *

After the meal, we depart for the pub. 

It's a place I frequent, and I know the bartender very well.  
They call over, but I wave and ignore their gestures to join them.

The only place available to sit is at the bar. I order two beers, and again Mycroft has his head swiveling around. Taking in and absorbing his surroundings.

We have to shout to be heard above the music and the chatter.

* * *

After about an hour I sense that Mycroft has had enough, and shouting above it all,"want to go back to your place? It'll be easier to talk."

He gives a thumbs up and my car transports us back to his house.


	4. The Rape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft loses self control

Mycroft leads me into the sitting room and lights the fire. It's a gas fireplace, still projecting the warmth and light of a real wood fire.

          "Wine or whiskey?"

          "I think I've had enough liquor for the evening. How about a glass of ice water?"

And from the small refrigerator, he pulls out a decanter of water, fills a glass, puts some ice cubes in it, hands it to me. He takes the same.

I'm sitting on the sofa, and he takes the chair near me.

Again the feeling comes over me that there's something building up in him.

* * *

          "Greg, a question for you.

His voice is low, he's leaning in toward me.

          I know you were married many years and you're now divorced. If this is too intimate don't answer, but have you been familiar with a man at any time in your life?"

Now I see the intent of all these dinners, and my heart gives a jump. Is this good or bad?

          "Yes, twice, both times in university."

My breath comes in deeply, and I'm stuck, not moving.

Suddenly he advances toward me, with both hands, shoves me down face upward, one knee holding me in place.

Before I can respond, my zipper comes down and then his.

* * *

He's so intent, so targeted on his pleasure that I'm frozen in place, my cock hardening with the frenzy he evokes.

Trousers around our ankles, he leans over me, tries to kiss me but I turn my head.

His hand finds my jaw, moves my head and holds it while his mouth plunders mine open.

Rubbing his body over me, our cocks rub against each other, the friction this causes has my cock twitching, tightening.

My hips react to his movements, and I find myself wanting.

Overwhelmed, dizzy, lost in the eroticism.

Abruptly he comes and spills on my cock, his shuttering, and the sensation has me come right after.

He lifts slightly off me, leans in and brushes his lips to mine.

* * *

Understanding hits me, arousing anger.  
I turn my head away.

         "What the fuck? "

          "That's just what I did. Well, not yet." he grins wickedly.

          'Mycroft, get the hell off me," I say not too lightly.

* * *

He gets up and takes some napkins to wipe both of us off, my hands brushing him away. 

Pulling his trousers up he sits back on the sofa observing me.

I get up and adjust my clothes, anger snapping my every move.

* * *

          "Can we just talk about this rape you pulled on me?" I sharply state to him, my eyes blazing, my body calming down, but furious at his attitude.

He looks amused.

          "Greg, you should have seen it coming. I've watched you for some time now."

          "But rape? Because make no mistake Mycroft Holmes, that's what it felt like to me."

          "And don't tell me, Greg Lestrade, that it wasn't enjoyable and what you wanted. I've seen you view me privately. It didn't feel you were fighting me off either."          "Fuck!"

I stand up, my whole being shaking with disgust.

          "I'm leaving. And don't bother to call me again. Ever."

Mycroft quickly pulls up from his chair, seizes my arm, bringing me towards him and crushes his lips to mine.

Again I am struggling against him, but all of a sudden I stop, my arm goes around his neck, pulling him in and my tongue opens his mouth.

Our tongues lick, lips hard against each other and I realize what I'm doing and pull away harshly.

          "No, you can't get away with this! Don't call me, don't come near me! Damn you!"

* * *

At my flat, I grab a beer out of the fridge and sit on the sofa. 

My hands are quivering from the experience.

Why did I lean into a kiss from him after that!

Did I enjoy the whole episode? Am I angry about that? Shit, do I want him?

* * *

What did I do so wrong I wonder?

Why did I let my emotions get the best of me?

Me, Mycroft Holmes! The Iceman, I'm called.

In bed now, but not able to sleep I send a text, not sure he'll respond.

          _Greg, I'm sorry! Can we discuss this? I didn't mean it to happen, it just did. My emotions got the best of me._

          _I can't sleep Mycroft, thinking about tonight also._

          _Do you want to come back here and discuss this problem. I know it's late, but we shouldn't sit on it._

          _I will be over in a few moments._

          _Door is unlocked. Walk in_

* * *

Thank goodness! Mycroft, maybe you can set this right.

I dress in haste, break out the tea and wait.

* * *

          "In the kitchen Greg." I hear the door open.

Settling in a chair at the kitchen table, I put out tea and biscuits, watching him closely.

We each pour and take sips, not looking at each other.

* * *

          "No, Mycroft, no apologies. I was a bit hasty, a bit shocked. It was not rape. You took me by surprise, that's all."

* * *

          "I let my emotions run away with me. How atypical of me!"

          "What do we do now?"

          "Maybe, since the hour is late and our emotions are not stable we should sleep?" with a shy grin.

          "Together?"

          "Well, Greg, we've done enough to warrant that don't you agree?"

          "Hmm, doesn't this call for an apology? On both our sides?"

          "And what, may I ask are you thinking would be suitable, Greg?"

          "Let's see what we both can come up," saying this I slyly look down at our trousers," with that would satisfy both of us."

          "Great idea, Mycroft, let's retire to the bedroom."

The night proves to be full of 'apologies'.


End file.
